Fat Cat Liar

“Yes, but don’t go caveman. I told you we’re doing a special assignment for him.”

“This requires all five of you spending the weekend at your dad’s?”

“You know I can’t talk about it yet. It’s a huge surprise. Even you will have to wait to see what we’ve come up with.”

“Why the secrecy?”

“Because Dad asked us to keep this quiet.”

“Is this a trivia thing? A Nerd Herd pow-wow and I’m the outsider?” His question is brash and coarse, anger seeping into his tone.

“Why are you getting upset? Thirty seconds ago, you didn’t want me to even tell my father I had a boyfriend because you wanted to do it the old-fashioned way. Now, you want to be invited to his place? And what’s with the Nerd Herd diss?”

“I’m a little confused here, Greer. I was under the impression you were going to spend the weekend with your dad for some bonding time. When you mentioned a project, I thought it was for charity or some ritzy ordeal that rich people do. Maybe even something to do with your personal shopping business.”

My blood spikes at his statement. “Excuse me? Was that a crack about wealth?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I’m looking for an explanation why you five are holed up at your dad’s for the next few days. It doesn’t make sense.”

I inhale a few times, trying to calm my own growing anger. It doesn’t work. “First of all, I don’t owe you any explanations. Ever. When I tell you I’m going somewhere to work on something important, that should be enough. Secondly, what doesn’t make sense?”

“I get the trivia thing. I even get the bond you all have. But four lab rats and a personal shopper working on a top-secret project feels off. And if you can’t tell your boyfriend about it, then it leads me to believe you’re hiding something.”

My vision grows spotty, and a film of red hazes over my eyes. “Did you just refer to my friends as lab rats!? And did you also insinuate that because I’m a personal shopper I don’t have a brain?”

“That’s not at all what I said.”

“For your information, my friends are incredibly smart.”

“I know, I’ve seen them in action.”

“Well, then you know having their insight can be very valuable.”

“Insight into what exactly?”

“I can’t tell you yet. Give me some time.”

“Once again, your evasiveness leads me to believe you’re hiding something.”

He’s right, I am hiding something. Privacy and anonymity have been my MO for a long time. This is a layer of my life I have held close for a reason. Lawson deserves to know why I’m going to Dad’s and why my crew is such a sacred resource to his business, but now is not the time to have this discussion.

“Lawson, I don’t know what’s gotten into you or why you’re acting like this, but maybe we should talk on Monday when I get home from work.”

There’s a knock at the door, alerting me that our family driver is here.

“I have to go.”

“I have to go, too.”

“Are we fighting?”

“I don’t know, Greer. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“There’s nothing going on.”

“Have a nice time this weekend. We’ll catch up when you get home.”

He disconnects before I can argue. The warmth from a few minutes ago disappears and is swiftly replaced with an icy chill.